


Particles

by amethyst-noir (Arbonne), babywarg (morphaileffect)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Flirting, Happy Ending, Hugs, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Recovery, Romance, Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbonne/pseuds/amethyst-noir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/babywarg
Summary: Three sorcerers appear at Tony's lab to ask for his help: Doctor Strange, one of their own, is trapped in another dimension, and their magic isn't enough to save him.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 88
Kudos: 354





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the [original prompt](https://ironstrangeprompts.tumblr.com/post/611539949483933696/prompt-622-tony-is-trying-to-help-stephen-who-is):
>
>> Tony is trying to help Stephen, who is stuck in the mirror dimension without his sling ring after a fight. But as the communications become fewer and farther between, Tony realizes Stephen has no access there to food or water.
> 
> But in the interest of overcomplicating things, I made it so that Stephen gets trapped in another dimension where he doesn’t have access to his magical abilities. He might have his sling ring with him, but it makes no difference because he can’t use it.
> 
> Presumes that Stephen became Master of the New York Sanctum prior to the events of _Captain America: Civil War_.
> 
> Part 1 of a 2-part fic co-written with Arbonne (amethyst-noir). But this can be a standalone fic while part 2 is being written, just PLEASE MIND THE TAGS for now. Tags, title, story direction, etc. may change after part 2 is up :)
> 
> [EDIT: it was brought to my attention that the "Major Character Death" warning may not apply to this chapter, so it was taken out. Sorry for the misleading warning earlier T_T]

Since becoming Iron Man, Tony Stark’s days had been filled with surprises.

It was a lucky thing, then, that he loved surprises. Especially the more left-field, more challenging ones.

For example:

A glowing yellow portal appeared in his lab in upstate New York - where Tony was supposed to be alone. It was late at night; nearly everyone else holed up at the Avengers complex had already gone to bed.

Then, three people stepped through the portal - a mean-looking bald guy in what looked like an oxblood robe, and two younger-looking persons wearing similar robes, though in brighter shades of red.

Tony noted that what they wore looked like war uniforms. Or religious garb.

“Tony Stark,” mean-looking bald guy growled, “my name is Wong. We’ve come to ask for your help to rescue Doctor Strange.”

And Tony Stark’s brow furrowed as he answered:

“Who?”

***

The explanation went thus: the three new visitors were sorcerers (that was the proper term - not and never “wizards”). While the Avengers protected the Earth from physical threats, sorcerers protected the Earth from mystical ones.

(Tony felt like this was something he would have to digest on the job. Which was no big deal. He’d just recently found out there were aliens, and magic, and secret societies with influence going all the way to the top of the US government. At this point in his life, Tony could believe anything.)

Doctor Stephen Strange was one of their order. He was known as “Doctor Strange” to other sorcerers, because he gave other sorcerers medical services for free - and because that was how he insisted on being known, even if he didn’t practice medicine for money anymore.

(“Anymore”? Tony took note of the word. He would have to ask this Wong fellow about it sometime. Some other time, when he wasn’t looking impatient with morons who asked irrelevant questions.)

Doctor Strange was one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. He had just taken up residence in an important magical center called a “Sanctum” in Greenwich Village, as its new Master.

It had been barely a year, when a massive interdimensional evil threatened the safety of the Sanctum. Seeing no way to actually defeat the creature, Stephen’s solution was to throw it through a magical portal, into a different dimension - and accidentally get pulled into the portal along with it.

Stephen and the creature somehow ended up in different dimensions. In the dimension Stephen was in, all magic was nullified. The sorcerers knew this much from the few times that they were able to communicate with Stephen. They had scoured their ancient texts and found a spell that could reach out to Stephen, even if it could not bring him home.

They were only able to talk a few seconds at a time. And not always successfully.

The three sorcerers in Tony’s presence were the three people who had the most spiritual capacity _in the entire world_ to cast the necessary connection spell, and even then...It was a spell that didn’t always work. Sometimes they cast the spell, using up magical energy from their own bodies, and it did nothing - simply sapped them of even the strength to stand upright.

The three sorcerers spoke of the difficulties of using magic...and Tony still didn’t understand what it all had to do with him.

“Why come to me?” Tony argued, arms folded tight across his chest. “I don’t know the first thing about magic. I work with machines.”

“You’re smart,” one of the younger sorcerers - the outspoken one, named Takao - answered. “One of the smartest humans alive. Like Doctor Strange, you have a flawless memory and an analytical mind, both geared toward finding out-of-the-box solutions.”

“Apart from Doctor Strange himself,” the other sorcerer, named Ayanna, supplied, “you’re the smartest man we know.”

Wow.

Okay, well.

That was certainly convincing.

Tony wasn’t even being sarcastic as he admitted that to himself.

“I still don’t see why I should help him,” Tony petulantly countered. “Being a master of some mystical conclave or something must mean he’s replaceable. Otherwise, what’s going to happen to your...Sanctum, is that what you call it? If its master was dumb enough to get himself trapped in a place with no escape?”

There was tension in the air so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Tony _felt_ the building complex’s defense systems go on high alert.

Whoever this Doctor Strange was, he sure had his loyal fans. Three of them were standing before Tony right now. At first almost _begging_ him to save the guy...

And then, looking mortally offended when he suggested the guy was disposable.

“Let me make one thing clear, Stark,” Wong said in a dangerously low voice, stepping close enough to Tony for a very painful headbutt. “Stephen Strange is no ordinary sorcerer. He has the gumption to attempt higher-level spells, only because he has the _talent_ to accomplish them. When he does something, most of us can’t even figure out _how_ he does it, much less how to _fix_ it. So if you’re suggesting any one of us could replace him, like how you so easily replace CEOs in an ordinary office, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Doctor Strange could even be Sorcerer Supreme if -- “ Takao began.

 _“Hush,”_ Wong snapped. And the younger sorcerer promptly wilted, shut up.

(Ooh what is that, Tony asked himself. “Sorcerer Supreme”? Sounded like a big secret.)

“He is irreplaceable,” Wong snarled with a note of finality. “To us. And to _me_.” He dropped his gaze. “Stephen is arrogant. And overbearing. He is still closely attached to his old life, and has much to learn. But he is also my friend.” He looked up at Tony again, his dark eyes blazing. “I will lay down my life for him. As I know he will also do for me.”

A personal reason.

Okay.

Personal reasons were Tony’s thing. They got to him like nothing else did.

If the reasons had been money, or even “saving the world,” he would have asked for more.

But this one heartfelt, honest reason was enough.

He might not know who this Stephen Strange was yet, or fully understand the whole sorcerer business...but one person willing to lay his own life on the line for Stephen Strange told Tony that he was worth saving.

Besides...was he really going to turn them away? _After_ they’d just called him one of the smartest humans alive?

“All right,” he said softly, clapping his hands once. “Where do we start?”

***

The sorcerers portaled in a stainless steel cart full of ancient tomes, which they felt might be helpful.

Unfortunately, none of them were in English, French or Russian. Or any of the other languages Tony spoke.

“We can’t even read some of these,” Takao lamented. “Most of them are in ancient languages. Ayanna knows some of it, but some are in lost tongues that no one has dictionaries for, anymore.”

“We’ll run them through translation software,” was Tony’s immediate solution. “Even if we can’t decipher all of them, we may be able to filter in some usable data.”

“Just make sure not to damage them,” Wong said irritably as the other sorcerers pushed the cart out of the room, as directed by Tony himself.

“It’s probably going to take time for the machine translation to finish,” Tony pointed out. “In the meantime, show me how you talk to him.”

Wong obliged.

He cast the spell. A ball of light appeared between his open hands, floated unsteadily in the air like a flickering flame...but nothing else was happening.

Tony waited. And waited some more. Eventually he decided that he had time to get himself a cup of coffee, and his guest a cup of tea.

When he came back, Wong’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and the ball of light was still doing...nothing.

Until.

A voice came out of the ball.

A deep, pensive, almost preternaturally calm male voice, unfamiliar to Tony.

 _“Wong,”_ the voice said. _“Wong, is that you?”_

But that was all that Wong could manage. He let out a groan and slouched forward - and the ball of light faded away, taking the voice with it.

Wong seemed to be catching his breath. He wiped the sweat from his face.

“Interesting,” Tony mused aloud. “Looks like you’ve found a way to get a signal out to him. We just have to find a way to boost it.”

“How?” Wong asked. “When the three of us pool our powers, we can make the connection last longer. But not by much.”

“There should be a way,” Tony assured him. “Any signal can be boosted, with the right hardware.”

***

As further explained by Wong, trans-dimensional spells exacted a heavy toll not just on sorcerers’ spirits, but also their bodies.

And, as Tony’s own experience said: technology augments the limitations of human bodies.

So the first order of business was to build a machine that could amplify magical signals, so they could go beyond existing physical airwaves effortlessly. It was the first impossible problem that needed solving.

The challenge was...

 _Fun_.

He needed a foundation for his hypotheses, of course, so he had to wait until his AI finished deciphering the ancient texts.

It was set to take the better part of six hours. In the meantime, Tony contacted the other Avengers and told them he probably wasn’t going to be available in the coming days.

He would be hard at work saving a wizard.

“So, as much as it’s going to suck, you may need to save the world without me.”

 _“We’ll leave a few bad guys for you to pummel,”_ a deadpan Steve Rogers assured him over the phone. _“If you need help, just reach out to us.”_

“Appreciate it, Cap,” Tony answered, “but this is an engineering problem, and that’s my department. If all goes well, I’ll be done in a couple of days.”

Overconfidence.

He knew how it sounded. But he always shot for the moon and even if he missed, he always landed somewhere in the immediate vicinity of that goddamn moon.

Because he was Tony Fucking Stark.

He was going to bring this idiot sorcerer home in no time.

***

Lack of reference data led the AI to return conflicting translations - a phrase that literally read as “my dog is dark-colored and has wings” could figuratively mean either “black magic travels far” or “my dark lord’s arrival is nigh.”

Tony would have to rely on the sorcerers to interpret the relevant translations for non-magical people like himself, and that was probably going to take ages. To call the task “complicated” was an understatement.

However, their machine translation returned a fair amount of info on how ancient sorcerers _attempted_ to amplify trans-dimensional magical signals.

Tony chose to focus on that, while the sorcerers pored over the other texts.

And, true to form, Tony was able to devise a theoretical formula based on the available data, and used it as basis for his SuperNatural Amplification and Reach-enhancing Kit.

He called it SNARK.

(Sure he could drop the “kit” and call it “SNARE”, but the name “SNARK” better suited a communication device, and was more his style, besides.)

SNARK was conceptualized and built in only a few hours. In his lab, Tony already had the tools to turn nearly any idea into a tangible, fully usable device, as long as the specs were solid in his mind.

The three sorcerers each took turns casting their communication spell into SNARK, and SNARK recorded all their values duly.

And broadcast.

Within minutes, they made contact.

 _“Hello?”_ the male voice again, coming in loud enough to fill the room, this time. _“Something seems different...is anyone there?”_

The sorcerers gasped in wonder and delight. Tony breathed a small sigh of relief.

It worked. He made it work.

But while a part of his very busy brain was celebrating, another part of it was already thinking of how to expand the technology into track and rescue.

“All of us are here, Stephen,” Wong greeted. “We’re in the Iron Man’s lab.”

 _“Stark?”_ A note of concern crept into the voice. _“Tony Stark? Is he there? What - what’s going on?”_

“Is the signal going to hold?” Wong asked aside to Tony urgently. “Do we have time?”

Tony nodded. “It’ll hold,” he assured the sorcerer. He pointed to a large sphere of magical light, floating in a prominent glass chamber, like a steady candle flame. “That ball of light over there is the spell you guys cast. SNARK is regulating the flow and extending the reach. You can see if the signal is weakening because the light should fade, and you can cast the spell again if necessary.”

Wong absorbed this, nodded, and turned back to the voice.

He gave the man on the other side of SNARK a quick rundown of events.

 _“All that in just...24 hours?”_ Stephen Strange said at the end of Wong’s summary.

“Stark works fast,” Wong explained.

 _“That’s not it,”_ Stephen carefully said. _“The last time I heard from you was...some days ago. But you’re saying...only 24 hours have passed for you?”_

Tony’s mind raced to make sense of this. It had only been roughly 24 hours since Wong demonstrated the spell that helped them get in touch with Stephen.

“Time seems to be moving differently over there, doc,” Tony concluded aloud. “Yeah, your guys have just been here a day. How long has it been for you?”

 _“I have no way of telling time here,”_ Stephen replied. _“But if my estimate is correct, it’s been...seven days. Since we last spoke.”_

A day on Earth = seven days in that dimension.

“Seven,” Wong breathed, eyes wide with alarm. “Stephen...”

 _“I’m fine, Wong,”_ was the gentle reassurance. _“My magic may not work here, but the basic disciplinary training we got at Kamar-Taj is paying off. I’ll be all right. Worrying about me will only slow you down.”_

Wong shut his lips together tight. Something was bothering him. Something he couldn’t talk about.

Tony chose to ignore it. If it couldn’t be mentioned at such a crucial time, it probably wasn’t important.

 _“I’ve noticed,”_ Stephen continued, _“that whenever you contact me, everything feels...different. Like I’m being tethered.”_

“Tethered,” Tony echoed, perking up. “Like you’re being weighted down? Like time is going slower?”

There was a short pause. _“Yes,”_ was the answer. _“That may be it.”_

Eureka.

Tony dramatically snapped his fingers.

“It’s not just that time moves differently,” he elaborated to the baffled sorcerers, “But time moves _faster_ over there. Fortunately, when your signal reaches Stephen, it links him to _our_ time, and slows him down. _That’s_ why you’re drained after casting your spell. It’s because you’re not just sending a signal - you’re sending a lifeboat.”

“What?” Ayanna asked, frowning. “How does that work?”

Tony took a deep breath. The concepts were complicated and technical, but he had to watch his words and make sure to get all the key notions in:

“When someone who’s from this dimension goes into another one, they’ll need to adapt to the laws governing that dimension, right? Time, physics, chemistry, the works. But when _other_ people from this dimension try to get to them without leaving their home base, they have to ignore the laws of that dimension in order to penetrate it, while staying connected to ours.

“In short, when you’re talking to Stephen, you’re actually encasing him in a protective field that keeps the laws of _that_ dimension out, and lets the laws of _our_ dimension operate around him. That’s how we can talk to him now, in real-time, _our_ time. That’s kind of mentioned in the books I looked at to create SNARK.“

 _“Snark?”_ the voice in the room said, brimming with amusement. _“That had better be an acronym. Guys, I don’t think you should trust the ‘expert’ opinion of someone who claims to have invented snark.”_

Tony snorted. Yeah, okay. In possible mortal danger, but still able to get his sarcasm on.

A man after his own heart.

“That means we can’t lose touch with him,” Wong worked out. “Someone has to be here at all times, to make sure there’s enough magic in the machine.”

“It can’t be you, Wong,” Ayanna interrupted. “The Sanctum is unguarded. You have to keep watch until Stephen returns. And as someone with a background in ancient languages, I have to help the other Masters with deciphering the texts...”

“I’ll stay,” Takao volunteered.

It was a sound plan, to Tony. There was room in the lab for just one more bed, and where his freedom to work was essential, having one magician around was better than three.

That gave Tony a reasonable amount of space and time to think.

***

_“So, you’re usually this awesome?”_

This was how the stranger on the other side of the magical device broke the silence that Tony had been using to draft new formulas.

All in all, not a bad way to be yanked from his thoughts.

“What are you talking about?”

_“Three weirdoes appear in your domicile asking for help, carrying a ton of old books in languages you can’t understand, and you just...go ahead and say ‘okay, I’ll help’?”_

A corner of Tony’s lips rose. “Weird is my weakness. Sue me.” He turned back to the virtual screen on which he was writing his formulas with an interfaced stylus. As soon as his formulas came together, they were processed, the sections of the board cleared for more writing space. “They came at me with a challenge that I couldn’t refuse.”

_“A challenge? Is that what I am, then? A puzzle? A mental workout?”_

Tony tried to parse from the tone of voice if Stephen was taking offense. He decided that he wasn’t.

The guy was probably lonely and just making conversation. If his conversion of time between dimensions was correct, he had not had a prolonged dialogue with another human being in over two weeks.

(One day with the sorcerers attempting to figure out how to save Stephen on their own + one day for Tony to create SNARK = two days for them = two weeks for Stephen.

Simple math.)

“What about you, Strange?” Tony parried. “You do this a lot?”

Tony could almost _feel_ the headtilt that was occurring all the way over in another dimension. _“Do what?”_

“Save the world in secret,” he elaborated, “only so other people can save your secretive ass afterwards?”

A light chuckle. What a pleasant sound.

In general, this Doctor Strange fellow had a nice voice. Rich and sonorous. Suited to magic and mystery, Tony irrationally noted.

 _“I just do my best and hope the ‘being saved afterwards’ part never has to happen,”_ Strange admitted. _“But I’m new to this superhero business. I guess that’s not how it works.”_

“No, it’s not,” Tony agreed. “But I’m just now learning that for myself.”

_“Oh? Someone recently saved your ass, too?”_

“Mm, sort of. I’m just saying, I’m learning how to let other people watch my back.”

_“Must be a fine back. Worthy of keeping an eye on.”_

Whoa.

Hold up.

Was this flirting?

This _was_ flirting, right?

 _Trans-dimensional_ flirting.

On the one hand, Tony was an adventurous sort; this brand of innuendo was a new thing, which piqued his curiosity.

On the other hand, the _cheek_ of this man.

“Tell you what. You’ll get to keep an eye on it all you want as soon as my fine ass brings you home,” he promised.

Another chuckle from Beyond. _“Looking forward to it.”_

Man.

Tony suddenly felt motivated to hurry it up.

He really wanted to meet this guy.

***

Hurrying up, Tony felt, was not a big issue. He was already working as fast as he could, making sure to get enough time to rest so his brain could stay fresh, and taking Stephen’s word for it that he was doing all right in that blank, bleak magic-less world he had somehow enchanted himself into.

Also, Wong was ceaselessly on his case.

It felt like Wong portaled in roughly every four hours to check on Tony’s progress. How was it doing? What, no testing _yet_? Tony only took a few hours to create SNARK - why was it taking him _two days and counting_ to come up with an actual rescue plan?

Wong was upset. Unreasonably so.

Tony didn’t get it. Stephen was doing all right...right?

“Need I remind you, Stark,” Wong said through gritted teeth, “that you yourself said time moves quickly there. Two days is two weeks for him. Another day and he might - “

 _“He’s doing his best, Wong,”_ Stephen interjected. And Wong dutifully shut up, with the clear resentment of a dear friend who had promised to behave, no matter how hard it was.

“Devising a rescue plan is not as simple as creating SNARK,” Tony patiently explained. “My calculations say that only one person can break through interdimensional barriers safely, using the amount of magical and nuclear fusion power available to us. That person only has _one shot_ to get to Stephen and come back alive, all within a very limited timeframe. Our numbers have to be precise, there’s no room for error.”

As Tony spoke, Wong started to look like he was ready to kill him. Tony couldn’t quite understand.

Unless...there was something about Wong and Stephen’s relationship he might have missed?

Wong managed to calm himself down somehow, so that whatever he had boiling under the surface, it never showed itself to Tony in all its glory.

“Just - do what you have to,” Wong rumbled, before storming off.

***

“So,” he said on the evening of day three in the lab, “you and Wong...”

It had been three days of near-constant communication with Stephen, while he worked on his calculations. They’d had a lot of time to talk

\- about the rescue mission, mostly. Tony bounced ideas off Stephen, and that was amusing - like solving a puzzle with someone who liked solving puzzles, too.

Tony saw for himself that what the sorcerers had said was correct: he and Stephen were a fairly good match. Stephen’s mind was scientific, methodical - and at the same time unafraid to go to very unconventional, very out-there places.

They didn’t think in exactly the same ways, but they synced up just enough so that there was little misunderstanding in-between the words exchanged.

It was...refreshing. Like finding someone he should have met a long time ago.

Then, maybe, Tony wouldn’t have spent all that time feeling alone.

They also talked about random things. Like how long it takes for human muscles, including the brain, to atrophy beyond repair after being deprived of food and water, for example. (That was certainly weird, but Stephen used to be a doctor, so Tony slated it up to him showing off.)

Random things, like particles. How each particle of matter comes with an equivalent particle with opposite quantum characteristics. Basic science shit that somehow sounded exciting, different, _new_ , when Stephen interpreted it.

Sometimes, they talked about personal things, too. When thinking about how to meld magic and tech together got tiresome, they talked about their lives, their accomplishments - and when they didn’t go on spontaneous (but fun!) pissing contests, they actually learned a lot about each other.

Tony learned, for example, about Stephen’s childhood in Nebraska. His self-absorbed father. His sensitive mother. His siblings. His life as a medical student, then a doctor. Things that were important to him.

But there didn’t seem to be a right time, or a good enough reason, to ask about Stephen’s lovelife.

Until now.

 _“Me and...Wong?”_ an unmistakable note of indignance there. _“Finish your question.”_

“You and Wong,” he began again. “Are you guys...a thing?”

There was a long pause. Tony was afraid Stephen had felt offended and frozen him out. It would not be the first time that his tactlessness cost him the presence of someone he liked.

But that pause ended, eventually. And when it did, Stephen’s quiet voice was positively ringing with amusement.

_“No, Tony, we are not a ‘thing.’ We’re just good friends. He’s not my type, and I’m almost certain I’m not his.”_

“Oh? What _is_ your type, then?”

Well, if he hadn’t pissed off Stephen before, he must surely have done so now.

Except...Stephen didn’t sound pissed off.

 _“I suppose it would have to come up in conversation eventually,”_ Stephen light-heartedly remarked. _“Let’s see...I haven’t really thought of myself as having a ‘type.’ But if I did, he would be -- "_

Suddenly, Stephen’s voice began to fade in and out. As a result, his words came out garbled, unintelligible.

 _“...Tony...?”_ It was the last audible word Stephen was able to get out.

Tony knew what that meant.

He glanced at the sphere in SNARK. It was flickering. Wildly.

But it couldn’t be. It wasn’t time yet. The magic infused by the sorcerers usually lasted a minimum of six hours.

This time, it was barely three.

“Takao,” he called urgently. He only needed to do it once. The perpetually alert young sorcerer woke, leapt out of his bed at a corner of the lab, and sprinted toward SNARK, the magic sphere that powered it.

Takao placed his hands on the glass around the sphere, closed his eyes to concentrate.

Tony waited, feeling anxious.

Something felt...off.

“What’s happening?” he asked, when Takao had been concentrating for three minutes, and the sphere within the glass still flickered.

“I don’t know,” Takao answered breathlessly. “It’s not working.”

The light of the sphere was fast dimming. Tony couldn’t even hear Stephen’s voice anymore. He bounded toward SNARK’s control panel, made adjustments that should keep the sphere in place.

But nothing worked.

The light went out, and the sphere disappeared completely.

“No!” Takao exclaimed, pounding a fist on the empty glass case.

“Doesn’t make sense,” Tony muttered, fingers still flying over SNARK’s control panels. “Something’s not right.”

“I need...” Takao swallowed. “I need to get help.”

He was already forming a portal in the lab. Without waiting for Tony’s acknowledgement, he leapt through it, closed it behind him.

Tony didn’t leave the control panels until he’d tried every command and combination of commands he could think of.

But when nothing he did brought the sphere back, there was nothing left for him to do but wait.

***

Soon enough, Takao returned with Ayanna and Wong. The first thing Wong did was step up to Tony and ask what had happened.

“I’m not sure,” Tony admitted. “My best guess is that...the signal is lost. Stephen might have moved outside the scope of the signal, or it simply faded out and can’t reconnect. At any rate, it seems to be having trouble locating him, this time.”

“We have to get back in contact,” Wong said angrily. “We have to!”

“It may take a while,” Tony warned him. “Stephen will be all right.”

 _“No, he won’t,”_ Wong shouted.

A pregnant hush fell over the room.

The two younger sorcerers looked as stunned as Tony was. All three anxiously waited for Wong to explain.

“Stephen’s trapped in a place that’s not like Earth,” Wong began, his voice forceful and hurried. “There’s no food there. No water. And he has no magic to summon _any_ of that. He’s relying on the rigorous training we received as acolytes, physical discipline pushed to the extreme - so he could survive for longer than ordinary humans would.”

This information sank into Tony with an almost infuriating slowness.

No food.

No water.

And time flowing faster than normal, except when Stephen was “tethered” to Earth time.

Whenever there was a pause in their conversation - which was whenever Takao replenished the magic stored and converted into a powerful trans-dimensional signal by SNARK - time flew by where Stephen was. So that a few minutes for Tony would actually be an hour or so for Stephen.

He already knew this.

But the lack of food and water - it had been going on for over two weeks.

How come this never occurred to him?

Moreover - how come Stephen never _said?_

“He didn’t want us to rush,” Wong further explained. “He was expecting he would find a way back, before we could. He didn’t want us to go in to save him half-assed. And he just didn’t want to seem helpless.”

“He told you all this?” Tony asked softly. Things were still struggling to put themselves together in his newly-unsettled brain.

“No,” Wong barked. “He’s just that proud, that arrogant, and that stupid. He would rather die than cause too much trouble.”

Spoken with the absolute certainty of a dear friend who knew Stephen way too well...

A dear friend who was in pain, because he was not giving up, even if it seemed like a lost cause.

“If we three sorcerers pool our powers, we may be able to find the signal again,” Wong continued. “In the meantime - you must hurry, Stark. The rescue mission. There’s no time.”

Time...

Tony had just been enjoying having time to get to know Stephen.

Now there was none left.

***

The stress in the air was palpable. Whenever he completed a major module, Tony found himself demanding updates from the sorcerers who were hard at work on getting a signal back.

And in turn, the sorcerers threw back some of the pressure at him. “It’s going to go faster if you’re not going to nag,” Ayanna snapped at him.

Which was fair. Tony hated being nagged, too.

But things needed to go faster.

This was the “rescue mission” - the action formulated after throwing ideas back and forth with a man in another dimension:

A special armor.

Only one person can go in and come back with Stephen. And since that dimension nullified magic, it didn’t matter if the rescuer was a sorcerer or not. It mattered only that they were covered in a protective shell, which would work efficiently with the magical “tether” - their lifeline back to Earth.

Tony already had prototypes. He just had to pick one, then make adjustments so it would better interface with magic.

But working on those adjustments needed time.

Time they didn’t have.

A day passed. Then two. Tony found himself skipping meals and naps, to check and double-check his formulae.

He collapsed on the evening of the second day, as he made his way from his blueprints to his organic synthesizers. Wong broke rank to see if he was all right.

After a mild healing spell and a couple of hours, Tony came to.

“How long was I...” he began to ask.

“Rest,” Wong admonished.

"How long?" Tony insisted. Wong set his lips and sighed.

"Half a day," Wong eventually disclosed. “You’re fatigued. You already haven’t been sleeping well since we came to you for help, but now you're also forgetting to eat.”

“What’s sleep?” Tony jokingly argued. “Never was a big part of my life, that thing.”

“This is no laughing matter, Stark. You’re weakened.” In a grimmer tone, Wong pointed out "You're fading away, just like he is."

“Bullshit,” Tony spat. “You have spells, right? Spells that keep you going?”

Wong’s scowl made it clear that he didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“ _Temporary_ spells,” Wong corrected. “When a spell wears off, the damage to your body will remain.”

“Give it to me anyway,” Tony instructed. “A little more time, that’s all I need.”

Wong looked like he was going to argue - once again, the situation might be more serious than he was saying. The look on his face said Tony might die if things went wrong.

Tony prepared himself to remind Wong that he himself had said, he was willing to die for Stephen.

Well, Tony was the same.

But neither of them had to speak, in the end. They both knew what had to be done.

Wong breathed a loud, exasperated sigh, and cast the spell giving Tony a temporary adrenaline boost.

It was enough to get Tony out of bed and back to work. And to get Wong back to helping the sorcerers re-establish a signal.

***

Tony felt the spell keenly - like splints in his flesh, propping him up.

He was supposed to be resting. Rehydrating.

Instead, he was placing the finishing touches on his new armor.

It was perhaps one of the clunkiest things he’d ever made - he had no time to make it pretty. But it was fully functional, and solidly engineered.

It was also the first armor of its kind that he’d ever made: armor that worked with and around magic, instead of nuclear fusion tech.

Only he could use it. He didn’t have time to customize it to other people’s biometrics.

He was excited to try it out.

And nervous as hell.

At around the same time he finished working on it, the sorcerers regained the signal.

It was much more difficult to maintain than before. The sorcerers didn’t want to leave it, lest it vanish again.

But Wong turned away from the sphere a moment to hand Tony a few provisions: a protein bar, a flask filled with water, and another filled with some sort of magical drink. All of this went into an airtight receptacle in the armor that was designed to carry lifesaving rations.

“Hurry,” Wong told him.

Tony nodded, and finished suiting up.

 _“Tony,”_ was Stephen’s first word through the recovered signal.

It might have been Tony’s imagination, but even if Stephen’s voice sounded as calm as it always was, it also sounded faint.

Ailing.

It was morning of the third day since they lost the signal.

By Tony’s reckoning, Stephen had been stuck in the other dimension for a total of five weeks.

Ordinary humans would have died from deprivation much sooner.

Or gone insane.

Tony stepped up to SNARK, touched his armored hand to the glass around the glowing sphere from which Stephen’s voice emanated.

“I’m here,” Tony answered softly. “I’m coming for you.”

***

The sorcerers had to cast a spell on the molecules of the armor and the wearer inside it, so both could travel along the signal that they had established. Tony understood that it was similar to how the body’s molecules temporarily realign so it could safely travel along an Einstein-Rosen bridge.

This was, on its own, a dangerous task.

Tony was already running on a flimsy adrenaline spell - the sorcerers feared he might not be able to handle molecular modification. The procedure was generally harmless to a healthy body, but to a compromised one...

“I’m tougher than I look,” Tony assured them.

“You’re...really not,” a grimacing Ayanna pointed out. She had just done a magical diagnostic pass.

“Well, that doesn’t make a difference,” Tony said to her, “because I’m not going to back out now.”

There was no time to lose his nerve. No time to change plans.

The sorcerers cast their spell. And in the blink of an eye, the entire lab fell away, and Tony found himself shooting across realities in a quantum tunnel made of magic.

Thankfully, Tony was conscious throughout the trip. This meant he could speak to Stephen while inside the signal.

“Hey Stephen,” he called out. “Tell me about particles again.”

The answer came after a pause that was too long for Tony’s comfort.

 _“Tony,”_ was the weak reply, _“Sound...different...”_

The sound of his voice, though strained, was like music to Tony’s ears. It was louder, more resonant, inside the signal.

“ ‘Cause I’m on my way, sweetcheeks,” he said, allowing a note of fondness to sneak into the words. “So you gotta talk to me, all right? Let’s keep this line open.”

Tony felt a strong tremor run through his muscles. That was bad. A sure sign that the adrenaline spell was fading.

“Tell me...tell me about what happens when two particles meet. Matter and antimatter. Positron and...electron. What happens?”

_“Tony...turn back. It’s too late.”_

A chill ran up Tony’s spine.

“No - no, it’s not,” he answered - wondering why it was suddenly so hard to get the words out. “It’s not too late. And you’re delirious.”

 _“ ‘M a doctor,”_ was the whispered retort. _“Know when...I can’t...”_

“That’s just the hunger talking,” Tony continued, feeling every bit as desperate as he sounded. “We’ll - we’ll get you home. And I’ll fix you up with the best stuff. Cheeseburgers, you like cheeseburgers?”

Silence.

Tony’s blood ran cold.

“Stephen,” he called. “Stephen?”

Still no answer.

_“Stephen!!”_

Was the signal dead? If so, why were he and his armor still traveling at the same velocity inside it?

Simple answer: the signal wasn’t dead.

Sleeping. Lost consciousness. Lost interest. Tony ran through all the possibilities.

All except the worst possible scenario.

The one where this person, this once in a lifetime human, this clever, self-sacrificing, _stupid_ son of a bitch was gone.

And Tony would never meet him. Would never get to trade stories and barbs with him in person.

Would go back to being alone.

A shockwave of nausea tore through Tony.

The armor’s instruments confirmed what he felt: his vital signs were dropping, similar to what would happen if his body was collapsing from exhaustion.

Clearly, Wong’s adrenaline spell was all but gone. Pain started ripping Tony apart, from the inside out.

 _Hang in there,_ Tony silently pleaded - to himself, or to Stephen, he wasn’t sure. _Please, God, hold on._


	2. Harbor, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has to find, rescue, and bring Stephen home before his own body gives up or their time in the foreign dimension runs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the promised sequel to @babywarg's brilliant set up. It's split up in two parts because it just fits better that way. Harbor, Part 2 will be up soon.
> 
> Time for the inevitable clinging to each other while talking!

He was almost unconscious, mind aimlessly drifting from one fragment of conversation with Stephen to another, by the time the brutal landing ripped him back into awareness. The pain shooting through his body was even more effective than the spell Wong had used on him - Tony guessed that he had a few minutes, at last, before the inevitable crash.

_Better use them well._

A few minutes… enough time to find Stephen, see the man for the first time ever, and do some basic first aid. Then... rest. According to all of his calculations the bubble of normal time tethering them to their home dimension should be enough to keep them save from the physics of the foreign dimension for about two hours before the foreign physics would encroach on their little bubble. Time would speed up, first slowly like a tickle of water, but soon it would become a waterfall that would rip away their fragile bridge and strand them both far away from home. So very far away.

Back home. Tony looked up to look at the grey nothingness that had been Stephen's companion for the last few weeks as the suit retracted itself as far as it could. It left his hands and face uncovered but still protected the rest of him if something should something happen. His surroundings were just that - nothing. Air to breathe and something that seemed like rocks but that was it. Everything was grey; even the air looked grey. Hell, it _tasted_ grey. He swallowed nervously. He could almost _feel_ the speed-up time outside their bubble. It was hungry, snapping at their sanctuary, eager to rip it - and them - to pieces.

Time was a fucking bitch; Tony had already known that, but he'd never been afraid of it. Until now.

Two hours, probably less. It had to be enough for both of them to rest up and find the strength to go back home.

Back home with Stephen, someone he'd grown to care for so much in the span of a few days. A man he only knew by voice. As tempted as he'd been there had been no time for even a glimpse of the report FRIDAY had composed for him. He was going into this blind; just like one of those stupid dates other people who were not world-famous did.

His vision was so blurry that he almost stumbled past Stephen while searching for him.

It took him a second or two to recognize the bundle of red on the ground as fabric covering a motionless body.

"Oh my God!" It wasn't a man who was slumped against the rock, it was a skeleton that was barely breathing.

 _Five weeks_ , Tony reminded himself. It was a wonder there was still breathing. Stephen had been in synch with Tony's time since the moment the sorcerers had reestablished the connection. Hopefully that had slowed the decay down enough to save him.

"Stephen?" he asked, uncertain despite all the facts. "Hey, it's me," he continued when a slight twitch signaled at least some sort of comprehension on the other man's part. "Tony," he added and let himself fall down next to Stephen. "Tony Stark. Remember? The guy you chatted with?" He brushed away the red fabric and found dirty blue robes and an emaciated man underneath.

 _Keep it together, man_ , he told himself as he reached out. _Don't close your eyes. He needs you._ Another barely there twitch as his fingers connected with Stephen's skin. Very pale, very dry, Tony noted. It took a few tries but he managed to find a weak pulse. _Very_ weak. "Hey," he tried again. "Your knight in shining armor is here. Sorry it took so long but you know. Had to invent everything first. Not only the armor but the carriage, too."

 _That_ got him an actual reaction. Finally. The skeleton opened its eyes but that was it. Stephen's eyes were some undefinable mixture of grey, green and blue and absolutely gorgeous, even blood-shot and in a sunken in, filthy, beard-covered face. "Tony?" Stephen's deep voice was a wreck and Tony winced at hearing it.

"In the flesh." The very hurting flesh. He blinked away another wave of dizziness and pain and grabbed for the water he'd brought. "Here, let's start with this." Hydration first, then Wong's magical potion, he decided. And somewhere in-between food. He took a swing to bolster his own fading strength end held out the bottle, only to realize that it wasn't going to work. Stephen was too weak to drink even with Tony holding the flask. Fuck.

Every movement was agony but he was used to pain and knew how to ignore it. Stephen was too weak to help so Tony had to do all the work of shifting him around until he had Stephen in his arms, head on Tony's shoulder.

"Just like that," he murmured, trying to ignore his nose and his stomach as they rebelled against Eau de unwashed man, and more or less poured tiny sip after tiny sip into Stephen's mouth. Only his iron control and stubbornness prevented most of the water from spilling. They couldn't afford it. "You just have to swallow, Stephen, I'll do the rest." That, and keep breathing. With his right hand busy trying to hold the water flask steady he put his left one low on Stephen's throat, barely touching the skin but wanting to feel him swallow. Concentrating on saving the man in his arms from fading away made it easier to ignore his own body and its pains for the moment.

Even with all the help it was almost beyond Stephen's abilities. It was painfully clear that his body was in the process of shutting down and that only immediate medical attention and a miracle could save him now. Neither of which Tony could give him. Apart from Wong's supplies he had a small amount of his prototype of self-replicating nanites but he was pretty sure that Stephen was too weak to survive even the insertion of them. It would be a struggle to get him into his own protective nano-suit for the voyage home. But if everything else failed…

Tony shook his head. They weren't there yet. Stephen wasn't dead and there was no use in burning up his own precious moments for lucidness by thinking about suspended animation for an already mostly dead man.

"Wong told me you're a stubborn asshole," he whispered into Stephen's ear. He wasn't sure, thanks to the beard, but the words might have elicited a small twitch of the lips. "Time to take that stubbornness and pull through. We don't have much time."

"We?" Stephen echoed softly. Somewhere, he found the strength to move his hand, shaking fingers moving was if in search for something. Tony set down the almost empty flask to catch them in a tight grip, only to loosen it immediately when the gesture brought a sharp hiss of pain. A quick look down showed Tony a battlefield of scars and the same massive multi-finger ring he'd seen on the other sorcerers. The fingers were swollen and shaking even in Tony's now gentle grip. _Nerve damage_ , Tony diagnosed grimly. Old, too. Seemed that the wizard doctor came with tons of secrets. Great.

 _Screw it_ , he decided. The time for secrets was long over. "I'm being held together by some mystic mumbo-jumbo courtesy of Wong," he confessed. "It's fading, just like the bubble of normal time tethering us to our dimension, and we have to act fast or we both die here."

"Why? How?"

Tony didn't answer, pretty sure that Stephen was clever enough to figure it out on his own, even in this state of mind. Stephen hadn't talked about the magical and technological accomplishments of Tony being here, he knew.

"You shouldn't have."

Tony shrugged. "Maybe. But I did. Wong and your other friends were very persuasive and your voice did the rest. It's rather nice when not shot to hell." He carefully adjusted Stephen's head on his shoulder, holding his breath for a moment as the movement released another wave of stench. Suddenly, he was thankful that he hadn't eaten anything worth mentioning over the last few days. "Which reminds me…" He let go of Stephen's hand to fumble for the second, smaller flask Wong had given him.

Medicine alone wasn't going to save Stephen, Tony realized to his horror. Maybe not even magic. But together? He refused to give up hope.

_It's a potion that will restore some of his strength. It's not unlike the spell I used on you but will fade even faster. Try to get him to eat or at least drink some water before you give it to him. It won't be pleasant for him but it should help until we can give him real help._

Wong's word echoed in his mind and he dutifully put the flask aside to pull out the protein bar. The red fabric was in the way, entangled with his arm and he irritably pulled on it to get it away from his hand.

"Don't," Stephen begged and swallowed hard. From somewhere he took enough moisture for glassy eyes. It made him look… something, Tony didn't dare to investigate the feeling it awoke in him. "Don't hurt it, please."

"Don't hurt who? The fabric?" Great, Stephen's brain was already damaged. He ripped the protein bar open with his teeth. "Okay, I'll be gentle with it." Stephen had nobody with him for well over a month. No wonder that he was attached to his clothing by now, dirty and filthy as it was.

"It's alive," Stephen whispered just as Tony tried to feed him. "Magic." He took a small bite and chewed slowly and painfully.

"But since magic doesn't work here…" Tony finished. He had no idea if Stephen was hallucinating or not be he vowed to be more careful with the red thing from now on. "Okay, I'll be gentle with your blanket."

"Cloak," Stephen corrected absently. He took another bite before he turned his head away. His trembling left hand caressed the fabric. "It's called The Cloak of Levitation."

Tony could _hear_ the capitalization. "A big name," he said cautiously while putting his hand on Stephen's cheek to direct his head towards Tony again. He wordlessly begged him to eat more. Food was probably a bad idea at this stage but, hell, what wasn't? Stephen should have died weeks ago but here he was, moving, even if only a little, talking and being concerned about his clothing. Cloak. Whatever. He really was something. Underneath all the filth and exhaustion there was a beautiful mind housed in the wreck of a body and Tony wanted to do everything in his power to restore strength and health to it.

"A good name for a good friend." A soft sigh. "It was lost to me the moment I came here. In one moment it was holding me up, protecting me, the next it was lifeless. Like an ordinary piece of fabric."

The sorrow and longing was painful to hear. "Will it be okay once we're back home?" Tony asked while holding the second flask to Stephen's lips. "Drink," he ordered without waiting for an answer.

The flask contained a liquid full of inert magic - whatever the hell that might mean - according to Wong, so it should work in this screwed up dimension.

"Please," he added much softer a moment of nothing. "It'll help you."

"I'm beyond help." At least Stephen let Tony feed him the liquid. "You shouldn't have come."

Despite everything Tony had to smile at that. "If you knew me better you'd know that words like that motivate me. Doing the impossible is kind of my hobby."

"'know the feeling." Stephen's unique eyes closed the moment Tony had given him the last of the potion. "This is going to be unpleasant," he said a few moments later. "I'm going to have words with Wong about that."

"Sounds like a plan," Tony answered and carefully stroked Stephen's throat and collarbone. It felt as if he was touching naked bone. Planning to shout at Wong was good; it meant that Stephen wasn't thinking about dying right now.

A quick glance at the timer on his wrist showed him that they had about forty-five minutes left before the creepy time would devour them. Still enough time to give Stephen a few more moments to gather what little strength might be found in the magic brew.

"How will we get home? I can't open a portal." A few minutes had passed and Stephen sounded just the tiniest bit stronger. The hand with the heavy ring on it moved again and Tony caught and restrained him. He wanted to take it off but knew better than to try to take something from Stephen he'd kept on himself for weeks on end.

"Spare your strength," he begged. "I know," he continued. "The portal is still open. You can't see it right now because it's over there." He gestured towards the vast emptiness. "We're at the end of a corridor of normal time. I couldn't pinpoint your location exactly and also didn't want to land too close to you because there was no telling what would happen." He closed his eyes for a moment as his vision blacked out for a moment. "We have to get there as soon as possible. There's not much time left." Wong and his sorcerers couldn't hold it open for longer, even with Tony's tech they were pushing it very, very close.

Stephen tried to force his body to move but had to give up after a moment. "Fuck," he cursed. His deep voice made the curse word sound almost like a caress. Tony was _so_ screwed to think about things like that right now.

"We have to move," he insisted. "You have to get into your carriage now."

A soft sound was the only sign that Stephen hadn't understood.

"I couldn't make a full suit like me for you," Tony explained gently. He once again touched Stephen's cheek and turned his head until he looked directly into Tony's face. "No time and I didn't have any of your biometrics. But your body is too weak to survive the journey without protection. So I whipped up some quick and dirty nanite-suit. I won't hold long but long enough." He hoped.

"Even if you get me home," a short coughing fit wracked the thin body and Tony strengthened his hold automatically, "my body won't survive for much longer. Doesn't matter if in this timeframe or another."

 _No!_ Tony refused to even contemplate that possibility. Not after everything. Another wave of dizziness tried to take over but he shook it away. He had neither time nor patience for that and had pushed through worse things in life. "I have tech," he said, hating the desperation he could hear creep into his voice, "it can basically do anything your body can't until you've healed enough to survive on your own again." Stephen shuddered at that but Tony refused to dwell on that. "The medical wing of Stark Tower has been waiting and preparing for your arrival pretty much since the moment I promised to help to bring you home. It's the most advanced hospital on Earth. I've got you."

"In every way it seems." Was that a tiny smile on Stephen's sunken face? Tony hoped so.

"I finally found someone who doesn't tell me to shut up; I'm not letting you go now." He'd had a crush on Stephen for days now and seeing and holding the man had only cemented it in. He couldn't wait to see Stephen cleaned up, healthy and able to really snark back at him.

"I can be stubborn," Stephen warned, but he let Tony move his body until he was leaning against the grey rock again.

"Good," Tony answered absently, trying to get the logistics straight in his head, "I like stubborn. I hate doormats. Here, let's just..." It took a lot of effort and even more of their dwindling time but he somehow managed to get Stephen upright. He was wobbling alarmingly and without support would have collapsed on the ground in a heartbeat. Tony hoped the suit helped with his stability because he seriously doubted his ability to carry Stephen out of here.

"Don't be scared," he whispered as the pressed the housing of the nanites against Stephen's chest. "It's just some nanites I came up with. I control them and will leave your face uncovered until the very last moment. They'll keep you safe from the exotic radiation inside the freaky ass magical tunnel across dimensions and time differentials."

Judging by the vacant look in Stephen's eyes he hadn't understood a word. Bad. Really, really. Bad.

"Just hold on, okay? I'll do the rest." He activated the nanites and watched as they crawled over Stephen's body. Apart from a slight hitch in his breath there wasn't any reaction until they reached Stephen's hands. "Shh," Tony soothed as he tried to swipe them away with a weak gesture. He caught Stephen's arms under the elbows and kept them still to let the nanites form a protective shell around his hands and fingers. The trembling stopped immediately.

"Oh," was Stephen's sole contribution before he closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

"Fuck! Stephen? Tony to sorcerer? You still there, darling?"

He wasn't. Double, triple, whatever fuck.

Less than twenty minutes left to get them out of this hellhole. He had barely enough energy to hold his own head up and now he was supposed to carry a fully-grown man out of here? Tony hadn't really believed that Stephen would be able to walk, even with help, but Tony had hoped to have at least his cooperation. Bitter experience had taught him that it was easier to carry an injured teammate when they were actually helping instead of being dead weight.

"Sorry," he apologized after thinking that. "You did great, actually. Nobody would have held on like you did. You're amazing. I hope you know that." He took a deep breath and let go of Stephen to get into a better position to lift him. "I guess it's my turn to be amazing and perform a miracle to get us out of here."

Getting up to his knees turned out to be relatively easy. Gathering Stephen's frail body in his arms and getting up to a standing position almost wiped out the rest of the fumes he was running on. Without the reinforcement for the suit he never would have managed it.

Twelve minutes. The timer flashed in the lenses of his glasses and turned red. Time was running out at warp speed and Tony didn't know if it was his paranoia and fear or if time was already starting to speed up.

"It's not paranoia when they are really after you," he whispered. "They being time itself in this case. Time to go, baby." He mobilized the very last of his reserves and managed to lift Stephen off the ground. Part of him wanted to seal Stephen up right now but he had a promise to keep.

Another alarm blared and the HUD of his glassed presented him with lots of data he'd hoped to never see in his life.

The exotic, speed-up time was starting to eat through the barrier around them. The first few tendrils had almost reached them.

"You should have warned me much sooner!" he accused the system and took a hasty step back. A sad beep was all the acknowledgement he got since there hadn't been time to interface FRIDAY with the suit and it was running on an simple OS, not an AI. "Overlay the exotic time with our surroundings," he ordered and gave a yelp and leaped back when he saw a tendril almost touching his foot. "Fuck! Back off, you stupid thing!" He wanted to kick it but knew better than to give in to the impulse.

This was it. No more time. No more time for words, for hope, for taking a deep breath. Tony just stumbled backwards, hastily looked left and right and swallowed at all the red that was filling up his vision. "Show me a safe way," he begged and allowed himself a relieved breath when the HUD lit up with a green passageway after way too many seconds.

His fault. If he had paid better attention, if he had been faster, if he hadn't wasted time talking…

Self-flagellation was an old hobby and a great way to pass the time while running for his life. He ran as fast as his weary body, the heavy and cumbersome suit, and the too light man in his arms allowed. It wasn't that fast and more and more of the alternate routes grew first yellow and then red but there was still some green left.

It was enough. Had to be.

"Hold on, Stephen," he gasped as the portal, beautiful in all its black and orange fizzing glory, came into view. "We're home. Close it up."

The nanites were just about finished with covering Stephen's face and Tony's own face-plate had barely snapped shut when they passed the threshold.

"See you on the other side, baby," he whispered, closed his eyes, and promptly lost consciousness.

*

One some subconscious level he noticed when he landed and when Stephen was taken from his arms. It took him a moment to recognize Wong's and Pepper's voices, reassuring him that he was home and that Stephen was still alive. That knowledge allowed him to surrender himself into the waiting darkness.


	3. Harbor, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. Time to recover and built the foundation for the future.

"You had us worried, Tony."

Well, he'd had better welcome-back words but he didn't care. "Stephen?" he asked instead.

"No, Pepper," Pepper gave back with a long-suffering sigh.

Tony felt something inside of him relax at that. "How is he?" After some futile tries the managed to open his eyes. Wonderful, beautiful, radiant Pepper was the first thing he saw and he had to smile. "Hey, Pep."

"Hey, yourself," she said and put a hand on his cheek. The fact that their friendship had been salvaged from the wreckage of their relationship was something he would forever be grateful for. "He's… not okay but alive," she eventually answered.

That didn't sound good. Tony forced himself up and Pepper helped without a single word of protest. "Will he stay that way?" He couldn't lose Stephen. He just _couldn't_.

A grimace. "It's still touch and go. And a miracle that he's still alive." Oh, so someone - probably Wong - had filled her in. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Tony. Despite everything I've never seen you pass out from exhaustion before. You're okay, by the way. Thanks for being interested in your own well-being."

He shrugged, not even a tiny bit embarrassed and repentant. "I couldn't leave him there."

Another sigh. "Of course you couldn't." Pepper shook her head. "One of the things I love about you. Your new friend is hooked up to pretty much every piece of machinery the medical wing has to offer and FRIDAY is watching him like a hawk. Your other new friends are trying to strengthen his body in their own… uhm… special way."

"Magic, Pep, you can call it magic. That's what it is." It had been a hard pill to swallow but the prolonged exposure had helped him accept the unacceptable. Or so he tried to tell himself. He still planned on having words with Stephen regarding magic.

He got an eye-roll for that. "He's being kept alive by tech and magic. Neither of those things could do the job alone."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes, and I don't know how he's still alive." Another reason to love Pepper - she managed to tear up over a man she'd never met before but shook it off immediately. "He's not going to leave here anytime soon. I already made that fact clear to Wong and his disciples."

"Oh, we're already on a first-name basis with the wizard then?" Tony teased and got a light punch on his arm for that. "Do you like him?" Tony did. Wong was cool and seemed to be a great friend. The best. Stephen's Rhodey.

"Fuck you," Pepper said, "and get up to visit your new pet project. He's unconscious, so maybe he can appreciate your dubious wit in this state."

"Hey!" Tony protested. "My wit is impeccable! Stephen likes it!"

"Or so he said while dying of hunger and thirst. Come on." She held out her arm to help him up. "I'll bring you to him." As soon as he was up and leaning against her for support Pepper leaned in and whispered "Don't worry, it's going to be okay" into his ear.

Tony would never admit it out loud but her unwavering support, mixed with her willingness to call him out when needed, was one of the most precious things in his life.

He already knew that Stephen had the potential to become another one of those precious beings.

"Hey," he murmured after he'd taken a seat next to Stephen's bed with Pepper's help and she'd left him after a long moment of silent contemplation. He ignored the metric fuckton of medical equipment and looked beyond the wires and sensors in search of the man underneath.

"Oh, you're pretty too," Tony breathed when he'd found him.

Stephen had been shaved and cleaned up and what Tony could see of him now was emaciated to the point that it was painful to look at him. Still, Tony could see the traces of how Stephen was supposed to look like. That, combined with the eyes Tony remembered…

"I want to see your eyes again," he told Stephen. "Do you think you can do that?" He looked down until he found Stephen's hands. It seemed like a violation of privacy but he couldn't help but stare at the heavy scarring. Even now, depleted and deeply unconscious, they were shaking. He wanted to reach out but managed to keep himself back. No, staring was bad enough, no more uninvited touching. "I'm also rather interested in hearing your voice again. I didn't go through all this trouble to not have you interact with me now."

He was babbling and he knew it. Still, people were supposed to hear their loved ones even when in a coma, right? Tony might not be a loved one but he could talk and keep Stephen company. Maybe, just maybe, he could help Stephen to find his way back.

Back to Tony.

 _Fuck it_ , he decided and reach out to touch Stephen's hand. Maybe it could help tether Stephen to life; he needed all the help he could get.

"Wake up, you idiot. There are people who want to scream at you for being self-sacrificing."

* * *

Staying in an almost-dead body was painful - as well as boring - so Stephen had fled into his astral form the moment his mind had been strong enough to do so. His body didn't matter anymore. Looking down at the complete wreck of it Stephen couldn't believe that it was still alive. It shouldn't be. _He_ shouldn't be.

He watched from a safe distance near the window as the beautiful woman he knew to be Pepper Potts brought a shaking and generally ill looking Tony to his bedside.

He watched in wonder how Tony looked at him and listened with growing incomprehension as Tony babbled at him.

 _I want that to_ , he realized after Tony had told him that he wanted to see his eyes. Suddenly he didn't want to fade away but be back inside his body, waking up to see the terrible exhausted but still handsome face of Tony Stark looking down at him.

He didn't even mind that Tony studied his hands and, after a long moment of deliberation, put his right hand over Stephen's right one.

"Come back," Tony begged softly after berating him for being an idiot, minutes before he feel asleep with his head next to their joined hands.

 _To me_ , Stephen heard.

He could go now. Fade away, just like the Ancient One. Nobody would ever know that it had been his choice and not just his body giving up the fight. Not even Wong.

Or he could go back. To pain, to brutal recovery, to _life_.

To Tony.

In the end, the choice was easy.

*

"Hey? You okay? Mind still there or did you check out again?"

Thanks to almost two months of almost daily contact with Tony it was easy to hear the concern behind the flippant words.

"Still here," Stephen reassured him and turned away from the ledge of the balcony to face his favorite visitor but still kept one hand on it for balance. It still wasn't the best - just like his weight which stubbornly refused to go up as it should, no matter how many great late-night dinners with Tony he had. At least he didn't look like a living skeleton anymore; just like a very starved and old student. Careful application of magic be thanked, otherwise it would had taken him so much longer to get where he was now.

Annoying, but better than the alternative. He would have preferred to be out here with the Cloak, instead of an old cardigan, but his companion was still inside, resting. While it was recovering it wasn't doing it as fast as Stephen. He could just about see it waving at him as soon as it could feel his attention. He waved back and Tony watched the little interaction with interest before the took another step closer.

"But not for long," he said, bringing Stephen's wandering thoughts back to the present.

"No," Stephen agreed. After way too long a time spent in Tony's private hospital he could finally go home. He could hear and feel the siren call of the Sanctum and could barely wait to set foot in it again.

"When?"

It was unusual for Tony to be so monosyllabic but also understandable. Stephen, too, felt quite some melancholia at the prospect of not spending most of his waking time with Tony.

"Soon," he answered. Wong had promised to portal him home since his body and his magic were still recovering. The first from malnutrition and the second from being leeched from his body over an extended period of time.

Turned out his fading magic, as well as the Cloak, had been the things that kept him alive until Tony got to him. They had built a protective shell around him, slowly bleeding away into the foreign physics of the other dimension. The rebuilding of his reserves was going slow but steady while the Cloak would probably need another couple of months before it was up to its old strength. Right now it spent most of its time laying around and playing Stephen's blanket at night. Stephen, as well as Tony, had started to pet it like sleepy cat and it seemed to like that, judging by the way it tried to curl itself around their wrists.

Stephen nervously played with his sling ring and watched Tony come nearer with trepidation. A few more days, he and Wong guessed, and he could try to conjure a portal again. _Back to the roots_ , he thought ruefully. Thankfully, this time his pitiful attempts wouldn't happen in the crowded training arena of Kamar-Taj but at home and in private. He had no illusion or hope that it would work the first time. Or the second. Or the third.

"Tony," he began just at the same moment Tony blurted out a fast and almost unintelligible "I'll miss you."

Stephen let go of the railing to turn fully around at that. He leaned his back against the railing and crossed his arms. "Is that so?" he asked, trying not to smile and failing.

Tony shrugged. "Or not, if you continue to behave like that." He gestured at Stephen's pose and managed to look lost and disappointed. A man his age shouldn't be able to look like a kicked puppy. It made Stephen's heart do funny things and threatened to melt the hard-won detachment he'd built over many long meditation sessions. "Stephen, what's going on? What happened to you?"

What? His confusion must be clear because Tony came a couple of steps nearer. He looked out over the city as if afraid of meeting Stephen's eyes. That alone let all of his internal alarms go off. "Tony?" He hated the note of insecurity that had crept into his voice but perversely it seemed to make Tony relax just the tiniest bit.

"You've changed," Tony said after a long pause. He took a deep breath and Stephen winced at the death-grip he had around the railing. It felt as if Tony tried to physically restrain himself from reaching out to Stephen and Stephen didn't know _why_.

"What?" was his eloquent contribution to the conversation.

"Ever since you got your clean bill of health and your discharge date a couple of days ago," Tony continued after a long minute, "you're… colder. More distant. I thought we were on the same wavelength but now I look into your eyes and I see a stranger staring back at me." He laughed harshly at that; an ugly sound that made Stephen wince. "You're more of an enigma to me now than you were when I only knew your voice."

"Tony," he started but didn't know how to continue. The meditation, he realized. His desperate attempts to prepare himself for the trials ahead had caused him to once again retreat inside himself. Weeks spent alone, certain that he was going to die the most slow and agonizing death possible, only to be rescued in the very last second by Tony Stark. Snarky, funny, wonderful Tony who had barely left his side afterwards - until Stephen forced himself to remember that he wasn't a loner by choice but by necessity that was.

Looking back he'd shot down most, if not all, of Tony's attempts of conversation over the last few days in an effort to get the inevitable over with. Hadn't reacted to any of the messages FRIDAY, Tony's wonderful AI, had passed on to him. The last time he and Tony had spent an evening talking and petting the Cloak had been before his last examination. He'd not only been hurting himself in the process but he'd refused to dwell on that fact. "I'm sorry," he said simply. There were so many things he could say, really. Explanations, justifications, et cetera. Nothing felt right. "I'm an idiot."

He got a small smile for that. "Wong warned me about that, actually."

Stephen sighed. "Wong probably warned you about a lot of things." He turned around to look over the skyline of New York, too. "I tend to fuck up," he confessed and put his left hand on the railing, right next to Tony's. "Especially with people."

"I thought we were doing rather good for a while, actually."

Was it his imagination or did Tony's body lean towards his just the tiniest bit?

"I was dying back then," Stephen pointed out because he was a fucking idiot without even an ounce of tact.

"You weren't hiding back then." Tony's observation was so brutally honest and delivered in such a factual way that it took Stephen's breath away.

_So why are you hiding now?_

The question lingered between them, unspoken.

 _I cannot do this._ For the first time he consciously realized what, deep down, he'd know all along. "You've seen a little bit of my life," he started, carefully, trying to find the words to make Tony understand. That he _needed_ to be alone, even if he didn't want to be. "It's insane."

"I walk a lonely road?" Tony taunted him, startling a surprised laugh out of Stephen.

" _Boulevard of Broken Dreams_ , Green Day, 2004," he quoted out of reflex. " _Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me._ " He added the random lyrics without thinking. A moment later he bit his lip and felt himself flush.

"There you are." Tony grinned at him, brighter than the sun itself, and put his hand on Stephen's left cheek. "I thought I'd lost you somewhere over the last few days. Nice to see you're still there somewhere underneath the shell you've grown."

Stephen felt his flush go deeper and lowered his eyes to escape Tony's far too perceptive look.

"What's going on, Stephen?" He asked. His voice had gone deeper, more intimate. It reminded Stephen of the desperate moments where Tony had tried to keep him conscious, of being in Tony's arms. Despite everything there had been a moment where he'd felt safe back then. Just like during those many late-night talks in dim lighting with only the Cloak and FRIDAY as silent companions. Tony had that effect on him, he'd learned. Made him feel safe and cherished.

Things he wasn't supposed to feel. Not if his life led him where he feared it would. Wong's and Takao's hints where not nearly as subtle as they thought they were and the prospect scared him to death and back. He wasn't the right choice, he just knew it. Just as he knew that he wouldn't refuse the call if - when - it came. The mystic arts had saved his life and he was duty-bound to heed their call. If only it wouldn't make him so afraid…

Now there was one hand on his face and the other one over his right hand. "Shh, let go, Stephen," Tony whispered. Only now he noticed that he'd held on to the railing far too tightly for his damaged hands. He hissed but allowed Tony to loosen his fingers one by one. "Relax, baby."

Baby. It had been a few days since Tony had called him by anything but his name or the rather impersonal 'wizard'. He'd missed the way stupid nicknames sounded in Tony's voice. His body, traitor that it was, shivered in pleasure at it.

The following sob caught him by surprise. "Shh," Tony said. "Have I told you that like the beard, by the way? Very me. It suits you."

Stephen winced at the unsubtle reminder that Tony had only seen him with a hermit-beard and unshaven so far. He'd co-opted some of Takao's magic to get back to his previous appearance faster only yesterday.

Great. Now he was sobbing and laughing at the same time. Tony beamed at him and Stephen had to look away from him. "This is me in my full glory," he mumbled into his newly resurrected beard. _A complete mess_ , he didn't add.

"Almost," Tony answered. "You still need to put on a little bit more weight, baby." So the damn man he'd been paying attention. "I mean it, by the way. It really suits you. The beard. You're rather pretty, do you know that? Gorgeous bone-structure and eyes to die for. The rest is not too shabby either."

Stephen choked on yet another laugh at that. Damn Tony and his way with words.

Tony hand wandered from Stephen's face to the back of his neck where he put on gentle pressure until Stephen gave in and put his head on Tony's shoulder, face pressed against Tony's neck. It saved him from having to answer the stupid things Tony had said about his appearance. He smelled amazing, as usual. _I know his scent_ , Stephen realized to his delight and wonder. He was still so fascinated by that tiny, irrelevant detail that he didn't protest when Tony intertwined the fingers.

They stayed there for a long time, clinging to each other, with Stephen sobbing like he hadn't allowed himself since… forever or something close to it. Rage and anger he knew. But this? This was new.

Afterwards, he didn't remember much of what Tony had babbled apart from the low "Shh, it's okay. I've got you now" and some vague promises of "lots of dinner dates, God, Stephen, you're still so _thin_!"

 _Fragile_ , Stephen translated and broke down even more at that. He was only held tighter in return.

Tony, always trying to be his anchor, his harbor to come home to. The thought almost made him tear up once again. Half out of fear, half out of gratefulness. How was he supposed to leave all of that behind when the time came?

"Stop thinking," Tony told him - not unkindly. "I can tell that your pretty head is full of thoughts circling around each other. It's gonna be okay. You're mine now and if you're think I'm letting you walk a single step more on that lonely road of yours you're really suffering from brain damage. We're in this together now."

The words were not only a promise; they were vow.

All the fight left Stephen in a rush. Why fight? Against _this_ of all things? The future would bring whatever it wanted to anyway, why not snag every moment of happiness he could get? He let go of all the reasons against and embraced the possibility of this thing between them instead.

"Together," he repeated softly. This time he was only smiling, no tears in sight.

Tony grinned back and leaned in, his intention obvious.

Stephen surrendered himself into Tony's tender mercies and dared to respond when Tony pressed the very first, hesitant kiss against his lips.

The Cloak rose up from its rest for the first time since coming back and settled on his shoulders in silent blessing. It reached up with a corner and wrapped itself around Tony's wrist in greeting.

Tony's delighted laugh at finally seeing it truly alive instantly became one of Stephen's most treasured memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait. I would say sorry for the POV switch in the last third but honestly? I'm not. It was too much fun writing Stephen's perspective of this. He's pretty and intelligent but still an idiot. He and Tony fit perfectly together in this universe - just like in any other one.
> 
> Thanks for reading and once again a big thank you to babywarg for writing the hurt part so that I could concentrate on the sweet comfort aftwards. Best of both worlds.
> 
> 🦋


End file.
